


Flatshare

by xslytherclawx



Series: HP Battleships 2019 [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: (except Charlie and Seamus), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Everyone is Bisexual, F/M, Minor Rolf Scamander/Charlie Weasley, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Pegging, Roommates to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 16:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20049298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: Neville needed a new flat. Luna's listing was too good to be true.





	Flatshare

**Author's Note:**

> I have highkey loved this ship since I first read OotP when I was like twelve, and I realised I'd never written anything for them before, which is ridiculous?
> 
> <s>or: happy birthday neville; your gift is getting pegged</s>

The reality of the situation was that Neville needed to find a new flat. He liked Dean and Seamus, of course, but he’d had quite enough of walking in on them in various states of undress. Besides, they’d just gotten engaged, and Seamus had gotten a raise, and all of that together meant that Neville felt like it was due time for him to find a new flat.

He pored over listings on his break at work, between marking papers, and found a flatshare that looked, really, too good to be true. The flat itself was large, spacious, close to his job, and ridiculously affordable. The person listing it said they worked during the day and were quiet and clean. There was nothing offputting at all in the description, so he replied to the listing immediately. Knowing better than to think he’d actually  _ get _ the perfect flat, he replied to a few other listings that fit his criteria (but which weren’t nearly as nice), and even managed to get his marking done. 

He didn’t check his email until he got home (Seamus had Dean pinned to the sofa; Neville went straight to his room). He changed his earbuds for his noise-cancelling headphones, put on a relaxing playlist, and tended to his plants. Then, he sat down at his desk, pulled out his laptop, and checked his email.

He had a reply from the person listing that absolutely perfect flat. He opened it, fully prepared to read that the flat had already been let, but he was pleasantly surprised.

> _ Hello Neville! _
> 
> _ Thank you for your email. The flatshare is still available. Please let me know what would be a good time for you to see the flat. _
> 
> _ Thank you,  _
> 
> _ Luna Lovegood. _

He replied with his availability, and to several other emails, as well. Just to hedge his bets. 

* * *

Luna Lovegood was tall, thin, and blonde. She looked to be about his own age, but what he really noticed immediately were her  _ clothes. _ She was wearing acid-wash, paint-spatted dungarees over what must have been the brightest neon striped shirt Neville had ever seen in his life. It was blinding, really.

She looked at him with wide grey eyes. “You must be Neville.”

“Yes,” he said. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Luna hummed. “Yes,” she agreed. “Well, come in. Please, take off your shoes.”

He obliged, and followed her into the flat. It was, somehow, even more perfect in person. It was  _ huge, _ especially for London. He hadn’t  _ really _ expected it to be so big, and open, too. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows let in more light than Neville really thought capable for London. It looked, really, like an advertisement for IKEA – only the artwork on the walls was too unique. The sofa, chairs, coffee table – virtually  _ everything  _ – he recognised from IKEA. He had the same bookcase in his room.

“I don’t really spend much time at home,” Luna said. “My last roommate bought everything from some shop. I contributed the paintings.”

“They’re nice,” Neville said. 

“Thank you!” Luna said. She smiled at him. “I think they make it rather more cheerful in here, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. He didn’t know if he really believed that, but dear god, was this flat perfect. He wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardise getting it.

“I can show you around,” she said. “It’s all rather flat, I suppose – but it’s close to where I work, and that’s really the main thing.”

“Where do you work?” Neville asked.

Luna shrugged. “It’s a secret.”

Well, that was a bit strange, but still, the flat was  _ perfect. _ “I see.”

“Yes,” Luna agreed. “The bookshelves are catalogued – there’s a copy of the catalogue on the iPad, there.” She pointed to the iPad that was sat on top of one of the bookshelves. “I like everything to be organized a certain way.”

“I don’t think that’d be a problem,” Neville said. “I’m pretty adaptable.”

Luna smiled. “Wait until you see the kitchen.”

He followed her over to the kitchen, where every single cabinet and drawer was labelled. “It’s very straightforward.”

“I like straightforward,” Neville said. He looked over the labels; nothing seemed  _ strange, _ though he supposed it wasn’t very typical that every cabinet in a kitchen was labelled with what went inside of it. 

“Good,” Luna said. “I do, too. You shouldn’t have any problem finding out where everything goes.”

“This kitchen is – really big. Do you cook often?”

“Sometimes,” Luna said. “I guess so. Why, do you?”

Neville blushed. “Not as often as I’d like. My current roommates are sort of – well, we’re friends from uni, but they, er – they’re sort of all over each other all the time, so I tend to spend most of my time in my room when I’m home.”

“Hm, so they have sex out in the open like that?”

“I dunno if they go that far, but I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s just sort of uncomfortable to deal with. They’re engaged, so – it’s really going to get worse.”

“I’ve never had to deal with that,” Luna said. “But it doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“We’re mates, and I’ve not got anything against them – they’re great to hang about with, really. But I’d like to give them some privacy. We all went in for this flat when we graduated uni, and they can afford it on their own now.”

“That makes sense,” Luna said. “Would you like to see the bedroom?”

“Er, sure,” Neville said.

She led him back out into the living room, and then down the one single hallway. “That door is to my room,” she said. “Your room is over here.” She indicated an open door, and led him inside. The room was bigger than his current room, though with how empty it was, it was difficult to tell just  _ how much _ bigger it was. One wall was dominated completely by the same floor to ceiling windows in the main room, and the other three were painted a cheerful light yellow.

“Yellow brings happiness, don’t you think?” Luna asked.

“Yeah,” Neville agreed. “I’ve always liked yellow. It’s probably my favourite colour.”

“Oh!” Luna said. “That’s perfect, then! My last roommate liked yellow, too, but his favourite colour was red.”

“I like red, too,” Neville said, unsure of how else to respond to this.

“Red is a good colour,” Luna said. “I don’t like too much of it, though. But… I think I like you.”

* * *

He couldn’t believe it. She’d offered him the flat outright. There was a lease to sign, and she invited him over for tea to do so. Dean and Seamus shared a bottle of prosecco with him, and they split some takeaway curry. 

“I swear, though, Neville, if this means you’ll stop seeing us, we’ll have to kill you,” Seamus said.

Neville laughed. “You actually think I would?”

“You  _ are _ moving out,” Dean said.

“Yeah, so you two can have some privacy. Not because I don’t want to see you. I just don’t want to see you two going at it when I get home from work.”

Seamus burst out laughing. “I guess I wouldn’t want to see  _ you _ going at it, either.”

“Glad we’re agreed on that,” Neville said. “Besides, you two deserve time alone together. You’re  _ engaged.” _

“And about that,” Seamus said. “I only think it’s fair, since  _ I _ knew you first, that you’re  _ my  _ best man.”

“Seamus,” Dean said. “Come on! We agreed we’d discuss it first.”

“No,  _ you _ agreed. I asked first, so suck it.”

As perfect as the new flat was, and as annoying as coming home to find Dean and Seamus snogging on the sofa was, Neville knew in that moment that he’d absolutely miss living with his two best friends.

* * *

Dean and Seamus helped him move all of his things into the new flat, and Seamus cursed the second Neville opened the door.

“Jesus Christ, man! I didn’t expect this place to be  _ this _ fucking nice!”

“I told you it was too good to be true,” Neville said.

“How’s the flatmate?” Seamus asked.

“She seems nice,” Neville said. “I’ve not seen much of her, though. She says she works all the time.”

“So Dean and I are getting a spare key, yeah?”

“Piss off,” Neville said, rolling his eyes. “You can come over if you  _ behave.” _

“Erm, can you lot maybe – do this inside?” Dean asked. “This box is  _ really _ heavy.”

“Fuck, right, sorry!” Seamus said. He dragged Neville inside and out of the way, and Dean carried the box into Neville’s room.

After that, they made quick work of it. They even set up his bed, and Seamus ran out to the corner shop to get beer.

“Mate, honestly, this place is top,” Dean said. “I’d be concerned your new flatmate is a serial killer. What did you say she did?”

Neville shrugged and didn’t turn around; he wanted to make sure he had his plants all set up before he went to bed. “She didn’t.”

“Hold on, you don’t even know what this girl  _ does _ for a living?” Dean asked, sitting upright on Neville’s bed. “What the  _ fuck?” _

“You’ve seen the flat,” Neville said, as if that explained such a gross oversight (or, rather, blind eye). “What, was I supposed to risk it?”

“What did she say happened to her last flatmate?” Dean asked.

“She didn’t,” Neville said.

“Well,” Dean said. “If you don’t respond to our texts, Seamus and I are going to assume you’ve been murdered and alert the authorities.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “I appreciate it, thanks.”

“Anthony’ll be heartbroken.”

_ “Anthony _ has got a boyfriend,” Neville said. “I don’t know why you’re still on that.”

“Er, because he’s mad for you?” Dean said. “If you told him you were interested, he’d drop his arsehole boyfriend like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“Piss off,” Neville said. “And you wonder why he never joins in on game night with you lot there.”

“I’m glad you don’t think it’s because he’s too busy fucking his boyfriend.”

“I imagine that’s exactly what he’s doing, actually,” Neville said. “It’s just that Anthony’s not obnoxious enough to fuck in plain sight of everyone.”

“Okay, we don’t  _ fuck _ in plain sight of everyone,” Dean said.

Neville shot him a look. He didn’t believe that one bit, and he could see Dean falter.

“All right, fine, but that’s not  _ all _ the time.”

“And you wonder why I’ve moved out.”

“I’m sure Anthony’d have gone in on a flatshare with you,” Dean said. “Then you wouldn’t have to live with a serial killer.”

“My flatmate is not a serial killer, and Anthony has a perfectly serviceable flat. Besides, he’s got that thing about being so far from his synagogue, and that’d probably take it out of my budget.”

“You might have a point there,” Dean said. “We’re not all doctors.”

“No,” Neville agreed. “We’re definitely not.”

Dean flopped back down, but he didn’t say anything else.

“We went on  _ one _ date in uni,” Neville said. “And it was sort of a complete and total fucking disaster.”

“And he’s been mad for you ever since.”

_ “And _ he started dating Zach like two months later,” Neville said. “We’re better off as mates. Really.”

“Did you even kiss him?”

Of course Seamus chose that opportune moment to come back. “Kiss who?”

“Anthony Goldstein,” Dean said helpfully.

Seamus shrugged. “I don’t see the appeal. I don’t like blonds.”

Neville snorted. He knew what Dean was thinking: blonds  _ were _ sort of Neville’s exact type, without exception. Which was sort of weird, now that he thought on it, but whatever. “Have you got the beer?” he asked.

“I have,” Seamus said, lifting up two six packs. “And I, for one, am knackered.”

“I swear to god if the two of you try to fuck in my new flat, I  _ will _ find other friends,” Neville said, but he grabbed a beer anyway.

* * *

Luna had been right when she’d said that she was barely home. Neville was, by nature, a rather quiet and tidy person, and he found Luna’s organizational systems more helpful than anything. He never had to wonder if anything was put back in its proper place, because everything was labelled. And, unlike living with Dean and Seamus (as much as he loved them), he never had to go hunting for a spatula, which was nice.

One night, though, when he got home from work, he found a strange, vaguely middle-eastern-looking man sitting on the sofa.

“Er,” he said. “Hello.” He assumed the man was a guest of Luna’s, and not a burglar or murderer who’d broken into the flat.

“Hi,” the man said. “I’m Rolf. I work with Luna.”

“Neville,” he said, introducing himself. “I live here. With Luna.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Neville,” Rolf said. 

Neville wondered if he was interrupting a date. Rolf was devastatingly handsome, really, if not Neville’s type at all (...really,  _ had _ he ever fancied someone who  _ hadn’t _ been blond?). He had curly dark hair, dark brown eyes, and an easy smile. He had a slight accent which Neville couldn’t place. “I was just going to go to my room,” Neville said.

“Oh, don’t leave on my account,” Rolf said. “Luna’s just getting a bath. I was going to read, but I’d really like to get to know you. I really shouldn’t keep thinking of you as Harry’s replacement.”

Neville assumed Harry was the old flatmate. “Er, if you’re sure.”

“I don’t want to pressure you,” Rolf said. “If you’ve got other things to do, or if you just don’t want to talk to me, that’s perfectly fine, I assure you.”

“No,” Neville said. “I just – wasn’t aware anyone would be here, but I can… definitely stay and talk for a bit.” It felt rude to just go to his room now, anyway, especially since Luna was, apparently, taking a bath.

“Excellent!’ Rolf said. 

So, Neville went to sit down in one of the armchairs. 

“What is it that you do for a living, Neville?” Rolf asked.

“I’m a teacher,” he said. “GCSE Biology.”

“Oh, that’s sort of perfect,” Rolf said. 

“Sorry?”

“Has Luna not told you what we do?”

“No,” Neville said, although some irrational part of his mind insisted that Dean was right, and that he was about to be murdered.

“We’re zoologists,” he said. “We’ve a team of four. Charlie will actually be by tonight, but Felix doesn’t really  _ socialise _ outside of work. Well – he’ll fuck us. And by that I mean me and Charlie, because Felix is  _ definitely _ gay, not bi, but. He doesn’t like to have a pint after work, or movie night, or game night, or anything.”

Well, that was more than he wanted to know about this stranger’s life. “I… guess I go out with my coworkers for a pint sometimes,” he said. “I’m the youngest on staff, though, so it can be a bit awkward.”

“Luna’s the youngest on our team,” Rolf said. “Then me, then Charlie, then Felix. Felix is only… thirty-eight, I think. He’s seven years older than I am, so. Yeah.”

“The oldest person on staff at my school is well over sixty,” he said. He didn’t know how old Horace Slughorn was, and he didn’t particularly  _ want _ to ask, but he certainly wasn’t a day under sixty.

“We’ve other people we work with who are older, but in our team, it’s just the four of us. But we all get along well, which I think is fairly important. And Luna, especially, is very upfront, which I appreciate. But so are Charlie and Felix, really. Anyway, Luna said you moved in because your previous flatmates would have sex in the common areas?”

Neville wasn’t sure if he’d put it that bluntly. “That’s… part of it,” he said. “Though, to be fair, it was mostly snogging.”

“You won’t have to worry about that with Luna,” Rolf said. He said it with such confidence that it left Neville with more questions than answers, but he didn’t really want to dlve much deeper.

“That’s good to know,” he said. “Er, do you live close?”

“I do, actually! With Charlie. He’s sort of – well, he  _ is _ my boyfriend, but we’re not exclusive. He’s with Felix right now, and he’ll come by when he’s done.”

That sounded like a lot. “I don’t think I could handle an open relationship,” he said.

“It’s not for everyone, but it works for us. It’s not as if we haven’t got rules set up that we both respect.”

Even so, Neville didn’t think he could handle knowing someone he was dating was sleeping with someone else. Even if it was only sex, and even if they’d set out rules beforehand. It seemed like far too much. No, Neville rather thought he was monogamous by design. He didn’t even like going on  _ dates _ with different people at the same time.

“Have you got a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?” Rolf asked.

“Not at the moment, no,” Neville said. Which, he supposed, was as close to  _ never _ as he was comfortable getting. It was the reason his friends continued to badger him about Anthony (who had been dating Zach for six years, now, which was an eternity in gay time). 

“It’s really not as important as people make it out to be,” said Rolf, which was exactly the sort of thing people in relationships always  _ did _ say. It wasn’t as if Neville was really bothered about being single. He had bigger things to worry about. Like his plants.

“I know,” Neville said. “I’d really rather date someone I  _ like _ than date people I don’t like just to be with someone.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Rolf said. “I’m the same way. Honestly, Charlie and I will probably get married as soon as he manages to properly come out to his parents. He’s out to everyone else, and his little sister is a lesbian, and one of his brothers is gay, too, and I think – I’m fairly certain the rest are also bisexual, but I think only one of the middle ones has told their parents? But – you know, actually saying it is hard, and I’m not about to pressure him. I was lucky. Both of my parents are bisexual, and most everyone in my family, on both sides, so I never really had to  _ come out _ to them. So maybe I don’t quite understand. I don’t know. Sorry, am I talking too much?”

“No,” Neville said. He just really had no idea how to reply to all of that.

“I’m autistic,” Rolf said. “So I sort of – well. Do this. Among other things.”

“I don’t mind,” Neville said, and he really didn’t. 

“My dad is, too. And my granddad, probably. My uncle’s not, but he’s got ADHD – and so has my sister. So, again – the whole family, sort of. It makes it easier, I think.”

“I can imagine,” Neville said. “My dad says we’re a lot alike, but I don’t see it.”

“What’s he do?”

“Both my parents are lawyers,” he said. “Litigators.”

“Oh, that must have been interesting,” Rolf said. “My parents are zoologists, too. So, again…”

“The whole family?” Neville guessed.

“Not my sister, actually,” Rolf said. “She’s a professor.”

“What does she teach?” Neville asked.

“History,” Rolf said. “In Tel Aviv.”

“Are you from Tel Aviv?” Neville asked.

Rolf shook his head. “London and Jerusalem. My dad’s English, and my mum’s Israeli. But we sort of travelled a lot when I was a kid.”

Luna came out from the hallway then. She was wearing pyjama pants with unicorns on them, and an oversized sweatshirt that might have at one point been blue, but was now covered in bleach and paint spatters. Her hair was loose and damp. When she saw Neville, she smiled.

“Neville! Hello!”

“Hello,” he said.

“I see you’ve met Rolf,” she said. “You’re welcome to join us. We’re just going to watch the new season of Stranger Things. Well – we’ll probably watch something else until Charlie gets here.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother,” Neville said.

“Nonsense,” Luna said. “If you don’t want to, you can just say so. We won’t be offended. Harry didn’t like Stranger Things, and that never bothered any of us. But if you want to, you’re absolutely welcome to.”

“Er, thanks,” he said. “I love Stranger Things, actually.”

“Have you seen the new season?” Rolf asked.

“Not yet,” Neville said. 

“Perfect!” Luna said. She settled into the spot next to Rolf, who wrapped an arm around her. “What do you want to watch until Charlie gets here?”

* * *

He went to board game night at Ernie’s on Saturday with Dean and Seamus. When he got there, Justin and Hannah were already halfway through a bottle of wine.

“Anthony should be here in a few,” Ernie said. 

“Oh, we can tell him about Nev’s fit new flatmate,” Seamus said.

“I thought you were gay,” Neville said.

“I am,” Seamus said. “But she’s pretty. And your type.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “She’s my  _ flatmate,” _ he said. “Not all of us are reckless and impulsive enough to endange that.”

“Sorry,” Anthony said, coming into the flat. “Endanger what?”

“Neville’s new flatmate is exactly his type, and he refuses to admit it,” Seamus said. He walked over to the kitchen counter and cracked open a beer. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Neville said. “He’s full of shit. But it’s good to see you.”

Anthony smiled and pulled him into a hug. “Good to see you, too. And, er, you too, Seamus, Dean. It’s been a while. And I don’t think sleeping with your flatmate is a great idea. It might work for Seamus and Dean, but it’d have  _ destroyed _ Ernie and me.”

“Yeah,” Ernie said, rolling his eyes.  _ “That’s _ why we’ve never slept together.”

Neville caught sight of Seamus’s expression over Anthony’s shoulder. “Anyway, Anthony, how’s Zach?”

“He’s great,” Anthony said. “He’s just got a load of casework to manage lately.”

“I can’t say I envy him,” Neville said. Every time he talked to Zach Smith, he just felt extremely relieved that he’d not followed in his parents’ footsteps. 

“Not everyone’s cut out to be a teacher,” Anthony said. “God, could you imagine?”

Neville shook his head. “Not at all.” Zach was about the  _ last _ person he could picture ever teaching children. He rather thought even Seamus would make a better teacher than Zach, and Seamus could barely manage two sentences without cursing. “He’d be an even worse doctor.”

“He might make an all right surgeon,” Anthony said. “Surgeons can be right pricks.”

“Are you admitting your boyfriend’s a prick, Goldstein?” Seamus asked.

“He can be,” Anthony said. “But it’s really part of his appeal.”

“I don’t get how you go from  _ Neville _ to  _ Smith.” _

“Seamus, that was in uni,” Neville said.

“It still happened,” Seamus said.

Neville appreciated his friend’s loyalty, really, but he really didn’t want Seamus to make a scene at game night. Ernie, for his part, seemed to be of a similar opinion, because he chose that moment to say, “Now that we’re all here, why don’t we start? Remember, Wizard School is  _ collaborative, _ so we’d all better work together.” This, he said with a pointed look at Seamus.

“I can play nice,” Seamus said. “I’m just saying, I don’t get how someone goes from Neville to someone like Zach Smith.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “I really don’t think one single date six years ago  _ counts,” _ he said. “Besides, I like Zach.” Which was as bold-faced a lie as he’d ever told, but he didn’t want to make Anthony uncomfortable.

“Of course you do,” Seamus said. “He’s  _ blond.” _

“Anyway,” Ernie said. “Wizard School.”

Really, it was no wonder Anthony tended to not come to game night when he knew Seamus and Dean would be there. Neville couldn’t blame him.

* * *

Charlie was in the kitchen when Neville came home from work. He liked Charlie. Charlie was in his early thirties, broad, muscular, ginger, and covered in freckles. He was nowhere near as loud as his boyfriend, and he was a good deal shorter, but Neville supposed they leveled each other out.

“Luna is at the market,” Charlie said when he saw Neville. “Did you want to join us for dinner?”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Neville said. “I was planning on ordering takeaway. Is it just the three of us?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said. “I thought maybe bolognese?”

“Sure. I’m really not a picky eater. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Would you mind chopping the onion? I’d do it, but onions and sad dog videos always make me cry without fail.”

Neville laughed and agreed. They talked as they worked together. By the time Luna returned (with frozen garlic bread and dry pasta), they were ready to start cooking the sauce. When Luna came into the kitchen, she did something that shocked Neville completely: she kissed them both on the cheek.

Neville didn’t consider himself averse to physical affection; on the contrary, he generally enjoyed it. But he certainly hadn’t expected his flatmate, who he’d known all of two and a half months, to kiss him on the cheek when she’d never done anything of the sort before. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so surprised. He’d seen Luna kiss Rolf on the mouth more than once – though that had raised more questions than it’d answered.

It didn’t help, really, that he realised in the moments following the kiss (on the cheek) that his friends all had a point: Luna really was quite pretty.

* * *

Two weeks after The Kiss, Neville wasn’t any less confused about the situation. He was clever enough to figure out that Luna was sleeping with Rolf (though they weren’t very secretive about it, and he was certain Charlie knew about it).

He was sat at the desk in the living room for a change of scenery, writing his lesson plan, when the door opened. He looked up to see who it was, as Charlie and Rolf had keys, too, and nearly fell out of his chair. 

Luna stood in the doorway, shrugging off her jacket, and next to her stood none other than Harry Potter. 

It had been nearly a decade, but he was unmistakable. He still had that same unruly black hair, those same bright green eyes, the same lanky build… really, the only thing that had changed was the shape of his glasses. He’d traded the wire rims for plastic tortoiseshell frames.

“Neville?” Harry said. 

“Do you two know each other?” Luna asked. 

Did they know each other? Neville had only been desperately in love with Harry in high school. They’d been mates, somehow. Both outcasts from the popular crowd, and neither particularly intellectual enough for the nerdy crowd. Harry had played football, which had helped, but really, too many people had pretended to like him because of who his dad was. Not Neville. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “We went to high school together! Blimey, Neville, how long’s it been?”

“Er, six years, I think?” He knew it had been six years. The last time he’d seen Harry had been on his ill-fated first (and only) date with Anthony. They’d gone to London, and ran into him at the restaurant. 

“That sounds about right,” Harry said. “It’s great to see you, mate. What have you been up to? Anything happen with that bloke?”

Neville shook his head. “No. Just the one date. We’re still mates, though. And I’m a teacher. GCSE Biology. How’ve you been?”

“Don’t know if we’ve got time for all that,” Harry said. “Graduated uni, got a job, moved in with my girlfriend, got engaged – then she realised she was a lesbian and I realised I needed to move out – moved in with Luna, because the alternative was my parents fighting over who I’d move back in with – and… then I got my own place, and yeah. That’s the short version, anyway.”

That was a lot, really, but Neville focused in on what he knew he could respond to. “Your parents still at each other’s throats?” Harry’s parents had, as long as Neville had known them, pretty much hated each other. They both adored Harry more than anything else, but he’d grown up bouncing between his mother’s house and his father’s. Harry had been jealous, in high school, that Neville’s parents were still in love (even though Harry really saw  _ his _ parents more than Neville had back then).

Harry grimaced. “Sirius and Remus both  _ swear _ they were in love when I was little. I’m not sure I believe them.”

“I can’t say they’ve seemed to like each other much since I’ve known them,” Neville said.

“No,” Harry agreed. “They get along now sometimes if it’s important enough to me. But beyond that…” He shrugged. “Anyway, you live with Luna now!”

“Yeah,” Neville said. “For the past three months. My old flatmates got engaged, and they could afford the place on their own, so I thought I’d give them some space.”

“That’s decent of you,” Harry said. “But I guess I shouldn’t expect anything less from you. You’ve always been a great person.”

“Thanks,” Neville said. He didn’t think he agreed; he thought he was a completely normal person, doing what any halfway decent human being would do. But Harry had always had a habit of making him feel special and important. The interesting thing now, was that he didn’t blush. Harry’s words felt like undeserved praise, as they always had, but they no longer made his heart race or his stomach flip. And, well, they hadn’t seen each other in six years, so, really, why would they?

“Of course,” Harry said. 

“How did you two meet?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s a long story,” Harry said, but he plopped down in one of the chairs, anyway.

* * *

It seemed like a normal Thursday night. Luna came home from work alone, and Neville was marking papers on the sofa. “Hello!” she greeted. She kissed him on the cheek as she passed. “How has your day been?”

“It’s been all right,” he said. “No major disasters to report, anyway.”

“Yes, teaching can be quite a lot,” Luna said. “My teachers always seemed quite stressed.”

Neville shrugged. “I’ve got good students, for the most part.”

“I think you’re probably a very good teacher, Neville,” Luna said. “You seem like you would be.”

“Thank you,” he said. He felt himself blush for reasons he thought might perhaps go a bit deeper than simple praise.

“It’s the truth,” Luna said. “I think I’d have liked to have had a teacher like you. Though in that case, I’d have probably fancied you.”

Without any further explanation, Luna went down the hallway to her bedroom and shut the door. Neville was left to piece together just what she meant by that. Did she fancy him  _ now? _ Or did she just mean she would have were he her teacher?

Neville didn’t really consider himself someone whom a lot of people fancied. He was too awkward, too shy, too nervous. It wasn’t as if he thought he was  _ ugly _ (though he didn’t think he was very good-looking, either), but in his experience, people tended to fancy people who were outgoing and charming. Neville was neither of those things.

He shook his head and forced himself to return his attention back to marking. If he’d known how much marking and creating lesson plans he’d have to do back when he was in uni, he wasn’t totally sure he’d have continued on the path he had. He liked the actual  _ teaching, _ but god, was it a lot of extra work. It was worth it, of course, but he couldn’t help being a bit jealous of his friends who left their work at work and had all their free time to themselves when they got home.

Luna came back out to the sitting room a while later, and Neville had to do a double take.

She was wearing one of his sweatshirts, and little else. Luna really wasn’t much shorter than him at all – perhaps an inch or two at most – and his sweatshirt really just skimmed her upper thighs, drawing his attention to her fair skin. Her hair was damp and loose and wavy and fell around her lower back.

She sat down next to him, smelling for all the world like she’d used his own body wash (and maybe she had). He didn’t know why that was so enticing, but it was. He couldn’t help but notice that the sweatshirt rode up when she sat down, and he tried not to look. They were flatmates.

“We’ve never actually discussed it,” Luna said, “but you’re bisexual, too, aren’t you?”

Neville cleared his throat. “Er, yes, I am.”

“Good,” Luna said. “That’s something else we have in common, though that does mean that I don’t have any straight friends.”

Neville knew, certainly, that Rolf and Charlie were  _ not _ straight (seeing as they were boyfriends, and had both told him as much), but his mind went then to Harry. “Harry’s not straight?”

Luna shook her head. “He’s bisexual. You used to fancy him, didn’t you?”

“Years ago,” Neville said. “I’ve got over it ages ago.”

“Hm, but there’s still the question of what might have happened had you known then.”

She’d gotten it exactly, but Neville shrugged. “No use dwelling on it, really.” His entire love life seemed to be a collection of missed opportunities, and he’d learned way back in uni that dwelling on that only served to make him miserable.

“Oh, I understand completely,” she said. “I was in love with his ex when we were in school – but she swore she was straight, so I never said anything, and then they got together, so why would I say anything? And then I’d gotten too close to Harry – and he’d really wanted to marry her. It happens. And it’s not as if I think anything  _ more _ will come from sleeping with Rolf. It’s fun, and we trust each other, but he’s going to marry Charlie, and I’ve not got feelings for him like that.”

“I don’t think I could do what he and Charlie do,” Neville said. “I mean, marrying another bloke, maybe, if it happened that way, but – I couldn’t stand the person I’m with sleeping with someone else.”

“Not everyone can,” Luna said. “It’s not a moral failing. Neither one is more moral than the other; it comes down to personal preference and finding someone who you connect with and whose preferences match yours.”

Neville hummed. “I suppose.”

“Do your friends Dean and Seamus ever sleep with anyone else?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t think either of them ever would.”

“But they’re happy together?”

“Very,” Neville said.

“So that’s all there is to it,” Luna said, as if it were really that simple. “I, personally, don’t think I’d mind either way. As long as we’d mutually agreed upon what we were doing and we happy with it.”

“Oh,” Neville said. He looked down to his lap, and noticed then how close Luna was. Their thighs were nearly touching, and he could make out, for the first time, the fine blond hair on her legs.

“I don’t like shaving,” Luna said.

“I don’t, either,” Neville said. It was the truth; he used a trimmer because he didn’t want a full beard, but he’d always hated shaving close to his skin. He didn’t know how most women did it, really.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m wearing your sweatshirt,” she said.

“I don’t,” he said. “It looks good on you.”

Luna smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind, Neville.”

“It’s the truth,” he said.

Luna took his hand in both of hers. She traced the lines in his palm, which sent a shiver through him. Luna’s hands were soft and her touch was gentle and maddening all at once.

“Would you like to have sex with me, Neville?” she asked.

Neville thought for sure he was hallucinating. “What?”

“If you don’t, that’s all right, too,” she said. “But I’d quite like to have sex with you.”

Oh. Oh, fuck, this was actually happening. Luna actually wanted to have sex with  _ him? _ He couldn’t think of why. Luna was gorgeous and brilliant, and, yeah, more than a bit odd, but she was absolutely lovely. Neville, by comparison…

“And I think we know each other quite well by now,” Luna continued, “and if you’d like to be my boyfriend, I think that’d be nice, too. Rolf won’t mind if we stop having sex.”

“I… I see,” Neville said.

“It’s completely up to you,” Luna said. “If you’d rather just be flatmates and friends, I am absolutely fine with that.”

She was still holding his hand. He knew sleeping with his flatmate was a bad idea. He’d told Dean and Seamus no less than a hundred times that he’d never risk it, even if it’d worked out for them. But now, in the moment, he wanted to kiss her and touch her and see if she was wearing anything at all under his sweatshirt.

So he kissed her.

Her lips were soft, and the next thing he knew, she was in his lap, straddling him. He ran his hands up the sides of her thighs, but didn’t dare go any further than that. Not yet. Luna trailed kisses down his neck and unbuttoned his shirt.

Neville was suddenly aware that they were in the living room, and at least two other people had keys to the flat. “Should we, er, go somewhere more… private?”

“All right,” Luna agreed. She pulled him to his feet and led him into her room, shutting the door behind them. He’d never been in her room before, but it looked like he’d expected: bright yellow walls which she’d painted various animals and people on, a wardrobe that was also covered in painted animals, and a large bed dominating the room with a tie dye duvet.

She pulled his shirt the rest of the way off, and Neville’s first instinct was to cover himself. Luna held his hands and looked at him in a way that sent probably all the blood in his body rushing down to his cock.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, trailing her gaze down his body. She let go of his hands and unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, sliding them down. Then, without so much as a pause, she slid his boxers off, too. She stroked his cock and leaned back in to kiss him. She kissed his neck, his collarbone, his chest, all the while stroking him.

He’d like to say that he lasted longer than he actually did, but Luna didn’t seem to mind. She wiped her hand on his sweatshirt, and trailed kisses down his stomach, sinking until she was kneeling in front of him. She took his cock into her mouth and –  _ oh, fuck. _ She seemed to know just what to do, because he was hard again as she sucked him. This time was even quicker than the first, and Luna licked him clean.

She stood up, met his gaze, and pulled the sweatshirt off over her head.

She was wearing absolutely  _ nothing _ underneath it. She was gloriously naked and pale and perfect. Her breasts were small and round and  _ slightly _ asymmetrical. He could make out the small tufts of hair under her arms, and he dragged his gaze over the patch of hair between her legs. He’d deny having pictured her naked before, if asked, but she was absolutely more beautiful in real life than he’d ever imagined.

He stepped forward and kissed her, cupping her breasts gently in his hands. He rolled an experimental thumb over one of her nipples, and she gasped. She took one of his hands and slid it between her legs, and Neville froze.

“Er,” he said.

“Yes?”

“I’ve not – with a woman.” If he were honest, he wasn’t completely sure what he  _ had _ done (with Anthony, about a week before their fated disaster of a date) counted as  _ sex, _ but he didn’t want to tell Luna that just yet, because that was right embarrassing.

“Oh,” Luna said. “Then why don’t we go to bed and I’ll show you what I like?”

Neville nodded dumbly, unable to believe his luck, as he followed her to the bed. 

Luna laid down in the center and spread her legs open. She took his hand in hers, and traced it along her folds. She was wet and slick to the touch. “You teach biology, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I know the – all the parts, it’s just…”

She kissed him. “That makes things easier.” She slid his hand up just a bit and positioned his finger. “That’s my clit; why don’t you rub it? Circular motions are nice.”

Neville nodded again and did as she asked. She gasped and moaned and writhed under his touch. “Good! Just like that!” 

She took his other hand and placed it over one of her breasts, so he rubbed her nipple, too. He kissed her neck and chest. Luna came with a shout, and Neville kept at what he was doing until she’d ridden her orgasm out. She kissed him.

“That was lovely,” she said. “Here.” She took his right hand and guided his finger up inside of her. “Start with one.”

He did, and he’d really never felt anything like it before. She felt warm and slick and tight around his finger. He didn’t quite know what to do, and evidently, that was obvious, because Luna started giving him very explicit instructions, which he followed exactly. Some people might be embarrassed by it, but, really, Neville was grateful.

He slid another finger inside of her when she asked, thrust harder when she asked, and didn’t stop when she climaxed. When she was done, she took his fingers and put them into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them in a way that reminded him only too much of earlier.

“I know you’ve said you’ve not slept with a woman before,” Luna said. “So if this is enough for you, that’s fine, but if you’d like to actually have penetrative sex, I want to make sure you know that I’m perfectly alright both doing the penetrating and being penetrated.”

Neville wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.  _ “Doing _ the penetrating?” He’d just fingered her; he knew for a fact that she didn’t have a penis (not that he’d have minded if she had).

Luna nodded. “I like both.’

“Sorry, maybe I’m – how would you be doing the penetrating?” 

Luna sat up, pulled open the drawer of her bedside table, and brought out a dildo and a pair of underwear. “With this. Or I’ve got smaller ones – and bigger ones.”

Oh. Well, that was – all right.

“I like anal, too, if you’d prefer that. I’m really open to most things in bed, I think.”

Neville really wasn’t terribly surprised by that. “Whichever you prefer, really,” he said.

Luna hummed. “I think you’ve done quite enough for me – let me do something for you.”

And so, two minutes later, Neville found himself with his legs spread on Luna’s bed, as Luna eased her strap-on inside of him. She went slow, and while the sensation wasn’t one he was completely unfamiliar with (he  _ was _ a grown-ass bisexual man with absolutely no straight friends to speak of, after all; he had dildos of his own, and he’d used them), it was strange when someone else was doing it.

“Is that all right?” she asked.

Neville nodded. “It feels good. You can go a bit faster.”

She did, and  _ fuck, _ Luna really knew what she was doing. He didn’t even have a chance to think of what that meant; she pounded into his prostate, and he completely lost himself in it. He certainly hadn’t anticipated his first time with a girl involving  _ pegging,  _ but here he was, and  _ fuck, _ Luna was so gorgeous. She was sweaty and flushed and radiant; he reached out to cup her breasts, and she leaned in to kiss him.

* * *

Neville woke up with a start. He’d fallen asleep in Luna’s bed, and he’d completely forgotten that he had work in the morning – and his alarm was in his bedroom. Luna shifted beside him. “It’s all right,” she said. “It’s just half six. You don’t normally get up for another half hour. I hear your alarm.”

Neville blinked blearily at the clock on the beside table. 5:27. Not that he didn’t believe Luna, but waking up in a different bed was disorienting as all hell, even if his own bed was just across the hall. “Right,” he said, laying back down.

Luna kissed his cheek and traced abstract shapes on his chest. “I think half an hour is plenty of time to have some fun before work,” she said. “You can penetrate me this time. Then we could shower together.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice.

* * *

He arrived to the staff room at work with an undeniable bounce in his step. The Headmistress, Minerva, gave him a look over her specs.

“Productive evening, Neville?” The most obnoxious of his colleagues, Gilderoy, was looking at him like the cat that had eaten the canary.

“I’ve got my lesson plans done two weeks in advance,” Neville said. It was true, but Gilderoy didn’t need to know anything about his personal life. While there were certainly coworkers he didn’t  _ mind _ talking to about such things, Gilderoy had never been one of them.

Gilderoy scoffed. “You’re still writing lesson plans?”

“Yes,” Neville said. “I care about my students, and I want them to be prepared for their exams.”

“Just wait, my boy,” Gilderoy said. “You’ll see.”

The sad thing was that Gilderoy really wasn’t  _ that _ much older than him – probably only fifteen years or so – and yet he had all of the worst traits of a teacher fresh out of uni as well as those of a teacher two days from retirement. He truly felt sorry for the students in Gilderoy’s literature class. Pomona said he had them read his own novels.

He paid attention to the meeting (standard stuff; there was a new trend among teenagers that even the younger staff didn’t know what to make of, someone in Horace’s class had gotten suspended for shooting Gilderoy with a slingshot – Gilderoy pretended to be  _ quite _ wounded).

He declined Gilderoy’s offer for a pint after work, and came home to find Charlie and Rolf in the kitchen with Luna.

Luna walked right up to him and kissed him. “How was work?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he said. “I like my kids, but – sometimes it’s a bit much, you know?”

“I definitely couldn’t handle being a teacher,” Rolf said.

“I couldn’t handle being a zoologist, so I think we’re square,” Neville said. 

“By the way,” Rolf said, “Luna and I have agreed to stop sleeping together. Just so you know.”

“Er, thanks,” Neville said. He wasn’t sure what else to say – he hadn’t really discussed the night before (or that morning, for that matter) with Luna. 

Luna, apparently, was on the same wavelength (or maybe she just wanted to have sex again; he wouldn’t complain, really), because she walked up to him, took him by the hand, and said, “Let’s go to my room for a moment.”

He followed her. Once in her room, she shut the door. “I’d like to be your girlfriend.”

Oh. Well, that was easier than he’d anticipated. “I’d like that,” he said.

“I thought saying that in front of Rolf and Charlie might embarrass you a bit, but I didn’t think you’d disagree,” she said. She kissed him. “I’m very lucky to have found you, Neville Longbottom.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Neville said.

Luna kissed him again. “I disagree. There are over a billion wonderful women out there… but it’s much harder to find wonderful men. You’re the only one like you, and I’m very lucky to get to be with you.”

Neville didn’t really know how to respond to that – it was more honesty and intimacy and  _ kindness _ than anyone had shown him in a while – so he kissed her and pulled her close.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [tumblr](http://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com)!  
Please feel free to join my [Harry Potter discord server](https://discord.gg/yb6bS3c)!


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